Author's Note: Thank you so much for your support! =) You're all amazing!

Summary: As Aflheim visits to a peace treaty between their realms things are...tense with Hela and the other royals not getting along smoothly. Things go from bad to worse as Loki suffers from heat stroke.

Ages: Hela: 21; Thor: 9; Loki: 6

Warnings: Bullying and some blood mentions.

"Abee" is father in standard Arabic. ;)

Edited on Febuary 1, 2019.

Alfheim Sends It's Greetings in the Summer!

She should have gone to bed earlier.

It's really the only coherent thought she can make out between slurred nonsense that scrambles across her exhausted mind.

Her mind is dragging through mud as it attempts to catch up from the lack of sleep she got last night, a state that is, unfortunately, familiar to her. She's gotten better at going to bed at a reasonable time in recent years, but it still isn't optimal. From her experience of staying up well into the night, she has come to learn that she doesn't bare any fondness for early morning.

Honestly, Hela can't really remember when she went to bed last night. She was working on a sculpture of Asgard's old palace in the north from a book she found at the library and got so involved in her project one moment it was a little past sunset the next sunrise was on the horizon. All in all her maybe an hour of sleep she received is not cutting it for her. But she was invested, and it was a little late to stop. Systa, her handmaiden, nearly had her head when she realized the disaster Hela made of her floor.

She was sculpting, and clay gets everywhere. She honestly had no idea what Systa was expecting otherwise. Hela has been working with such materials since she was a child and supposes that she's long since gotten used to it. She loves staying up late when the palace is fallen asleep and all is quiet, and there's a mystic air around it. The little details with paint and blades she can add to her clay always brings her a strong sense of satisfaction. Or wood, metal—really whatever Hela has on hand.

"Slept well, last night, did you?" Hela slips out of the daze she's fallen into to look up at her father. His one-eyed gaze is resting on her with a single eyebrow lifted slightly. In his right hand is a quill he was using to scribble out responses to some of the paperwork present on the table. Likely from the parliament, but it's hard to gauge from this angle. Hela clears her throat slightly and shakes her head, giving her eyes a low rub.

"Not particularity."

"I can see that." Odin says with a slight huff, "Perhaps we ought to send you back."

She adjusts her position at the table, pulling her elbow off of the cream cloth and shakes her head. As much as she would love to agree, she has things that need to be done today.

Since Frigga became apart of their family, she has insisted on having meals together. It wasn't something Hela can ever remember her birth mother doing, but she was fairly young when she died. For the first few months, it was awkward, but now, centuries later, Hela has long since grown used to it. Dinner and midday meal are typically impossible to have privately, so breakfast is typically the only meal they spend in the Royal Family's dining room.

Hela sighs between her teeth and reaches forward to take the glass of water from off the table and drink from it.

Odin looks up at her again, "You look ill. When was the last time you slept for more than a few hours?"

Hela shrugs helplessly.

Odin gives her a sharp look and opens his mouth to retort this, but at that moment the door to the room is thrown open and Loki and Thor come bursting inside, both holding pieces of paper and chattering loudly. They both move to Odin as if drawn there and lift up the papers.

"Abee! Abee, look!" Loki proclaims, thrusting the paper towards his face.

Odin grasps the paper before it can fall and looks at the words scrawled across the page. Loki points at the top where the grade is marked in silver ink. Hela leans forward slightly to look at it. It's one of the highest grades someone can receive at that age. Odin sets the paper on the table and smiles at Loki, "Well done, my son."

Loki beams in response, "Sir Borison said that I got the words right." Loki says happily. "I knew I had, but he said that I did better than everyone else in my class," her youngest sibling leans forward slightly, as if sharing a great secret and adds: "He says that if I continue like this, he's going to have to put me in an older class."

Really?

"Father," Thor interrupts before Loki can start to babble, as he is often prone to, and with equal enthusiasm to Loki shows a piece of art. "Look and what we had to do for Lady Eleni this week." Hela's eyebrows lift with surprise. It's a sketch of the Bifrost bridge, but well detailed despite the fact it's black and white.

"My son!" Odin exclaims, "This is greatly detailed. You clearly have an eye for the arts. Well done!"

Thor's smile could light up a room. He takes the paper from Odin and moves around the table to show it to her, "Look, look!" He commands.

Hela takes the piece of paper and nods with agreement, then looks up at him, "Going to become a artist, are we?"

"You'd have the skill needed." Odin appends.

Thor looks offended, and looks between the two of them. "Of course not! That's for girls." He disagrees, "I'm going to be a Valkyrie."

Loki, who has materialized behind the other, nods with agreement, though Hela notes that he looks slightly ill. His face is flushed and his eyes are shadowed. Nonetheless, he adds cheerfully: "Thor said I'm gonna be his lieutenant."

Hela and her father shared an amused look, but she doesn't quite have the heart to tell Thor that Valkyrie are only women. And all dead. The organization was disbanded after the brutal slaughter of Wind and Sorrowed Death.

Frigga strides into the room, brushing down her skirt and looking slightly disheveled. Thor and Loki scramble across the room to wave the papers at her and happily proclaim their achievements. Hela shakes her head with slight bemusement and turns her attention back to the food on the table. Her education was mostly a mess when she reached her juvenile years. War had taken route with Vanaheim and Asgard wasn't probably secured until Odin's marriage to Frigga. Afterwards, it just sort of fizzled out. She was mostly taught privately, but Loki and Thor are in classes meant for the high nobility's children.

Loki and Thor take their places at the table and Frigga sits beside Odin. "Good morn, Hela."

"Good morn." Hela responds distractedly, spinning the spoon through the hot soup. Why are they having a warm meal when it's so hot outside you could easily roast raw meat? Hela has never had a great love for summer, but this particular season seems determined to melt them alive.

Frigga sighs, drawing her attention back to the present. Her gaze is resting on Hela. "How late?"

Hela bites down a flush, it is truly so obvious that she didn't sleep? Does it become "late" if it's early morning when you go to bed?

"Not terribly?" Hela offers.

Frigga's eyebrow arches further. "Yes, I can tell."

Hela shrugs, "I was distracted."

"Hela." Frigga bites, "You know better than to stay up so late when there are political advancements you must participate in by now!"

Wait, what? Hela stares at her blankly, "I didn't hear of such thing."

Odin's hand movements still on the piece of paper and he looks up at her before he and her stepmother share a look. Frigga makes a pointed glance. "You didn't tell her?"

Hela's eyes narrow with suspicion and she stuffs the feeling of dread building in her stomach as Odin shakes his head. "I thought you did last night."

"Tell me what?" Hela asks.

"King Nevel and Queen Tisti are coming for a visit." Thor pipes up before either of her parents can.

Hela's spine goes rigid.

What!

No!

She shoves to her feet and swears loudly.

"Language." Odin chides and gives a pointed look in Loki and Thor's direction.

In response, Hela swears again.

"Hela Bestla." Frigga chides.

"No!" Hela says firmly, "I'm not going to sit here and go through...that again!" She argues, slamming her hands on the tabletop. Loki jumps from the corner of her eye, but she can't bring herself to care properly. All she can feel is the seething heat in her blood.

"They are coming to re-sign the peace treaty, that's all." Frigga says firmly, then adds after a hesitation, "I've also been hoping to meet her youngest children, she had a set of twins." Yes, she knows, they went to the christening.

"No!" Hela disagrees, spins the words around her head again and shakes her head vehemently, "No."

"Daughter—" Odin starts with a slight sigh, "you must learn to let this go."

When either she or they are dead and rotting, she'll be more than happy to release the anger. "Let this go?" Hela repeats, flabbergasted. Her fingers are digging into the table top and ruining the tablecloths lack of wrinkles.

"Why are you unexcited?" Thor asks, though his words are hesitant, as if drawn through after careful consideration on whether or not it will get him impaled. Hela tries to draw her patience together, but the frays are beyond her ability to reach. Loki's head is tilted towards her as well, his wide green eyes staring at her curiously.

They look so young.

Untainted.

Hela grits her jaw together, forcing herself to remain as gathered together as she can. "I do not enjoy their company."

"Why?" Thor asks.

"Our beloved allies like to play with fire." She says darkly, then turns to her parents. "Send me somewhere else for the day. Vanaheim, Muspelheim, Nidavellir—anywhere else. I'm going to remove someone's eye if I have to spend any more time with them." She promises. She can't believe this evaded her attention. Usually treaty-signings are something she knows about for months in advance, not hours.

Norns.

Thor looks confused, "But I heard that Prince Kiartan took your place in the war after you were hurt. Why are you angry with him?"

Yes, they would teach that, wouldn't they? Can't taint Kiartan so soon to his crowning, can they? Hela never found solid evidence to prove what they did. Hela is by no means a liar or known for it, she's never seen a purpose for it. There can always been dagger to the face or a weapon to the throat, people are pretty easy to persuade that way, too.

Hela bites down a bitter laugh and releases her deep hold on the wood of the table. "I don't want to discuss it." She answers thinly.

Thor stares at her, "My tutor says that it's good to get emotions out. Then you don't feel as bad."

Children. "May I be excused?" She questions between gritted teeth, looking to her parents.

Both hesitate, looking visibly uncomfortable.

She's going to strangle something if she has to sit here any longer.

"I really think-" Frigga starts, but Hela's patience snaps. She shoves back from the table and begins to storm from the room. Odin manages to grab her wrist before she can lap around the table completely and she wiggles from his grip with ease.

"Hela-" Her stepmother starts once more, but Hela has hold on the handle to the door and shoves it open, moving to exit before she can finish.

She quickly and with some degree of ease slips through the halls leading back to her bedchamber and shuts the door behind her, releasing a haggard breath as she leans her head against the back of the wood. It will be fine. It will be fine.

It has to be.

They're all older now.

She has lead armies since the last time she has had to talk with them.

It still doesn't ease the constriction in her chest.

It started with smoke.

And then the entire building was engulfed, and she was trapped and alone.

000o000

Although she has no desire to do so, Hela washes her hair, dresses into her formal attire, and prepares for the treaty signing. She may hate that she has to interact with the royalty from Alfheim, but she is not blind to Asgard's needs. When she is queen, she will need allies and she's not going to gain them by running around hiding from people she hates.

In total it takes her a little over an hour to get prepared. Her hair has been pulled up into some sort of fancy up-do that she can't see herself repeating with success. She shoves on a pair of heals that she usually avoids and straps a sword at her hip for ceremony. Weapons are not typically permitted in the throne room, but when the treaty signing happens, members of the royal family of equal rank will trade weapons to signify that they are equal.

Hela doesn't bother with her helmet, recently nick-named by Loki as the "spider-crown", but rather takes the thin circlet she rarely wears and weaves it between her hair.

The spider-crown would be her first choice, given opportunity, but where these are allies, it would be considered rude and insensitive. She's never really been given a reason for why, only that it is. Loki and Thor will likely also be wearing such circlets, proclaiming them a part of Odin's descendants.

When she exits her room, Systa is waiting outside. Systa is a petite woman with black hair that streams down to the base of her spine. Such dark colors are uncommon on Asgard, but most of Systa's family has the color, including her mother and younger sister, Sif. Her lips are drawn together tightly, but as she sees Hela tension releases between her shoulder blades.

"Your parents sent me to collect you," she says in way of greeting with the thick accent belonging only to those who don't speak Aardent, Serenity's common-tongue, as a first language. Systa hails from beyond Speckle Point; the city of Frein, to be exact. Her father is the governor there. "I had expected to need to pull you from your quarters."

"Unnecessary," Hela assures, "but I appreciate the sentiment."

Systa hums knowingly, before giving her a curt nod, "Then I'll be on my way, then."

Hela tilts her head in response and Systa moves to walk past her, quickly disappearing down the hall.

Hela lingers for a moment before stuffing down her dread and moving forward.

She meets her family in the throne room somewhere close to two hours after breakfast. Her father rests in Hliðskjálf with Gungnir in one hand, her stepmother by his side. Loki and Thor are standing next to each other, engaging in what looks to be some sort of hand game between their fingers. Other members of the parliament and curia regis are present as well towards the father edges of the room, and Hela can see her aunt, Freya among them.

When the treaty between Vanaheim and Asgard was made, Frigga was allowed to take the captain of her guard, a handful of soldiers and two of her ladies in waiting with her. One was her younger sister, Freya, who has lived in the palace as long as Frigga has. Freya is a brisk, but kind woman who eventually married one of the curia regis members, Lord Arkenson. Although her employments have varied, Freya was Loki and Thor's nuremaid until a few years ago.

She can feel the eyes of the noblemen and women on her as she moves forward and comes to the realization that she is quite late. Frigga catches her eye after a moment and Hela quietly releases a breath through her teeth before stepping up the stairs and lowering to one knee, resting a hand on her heart.

"My king," she greets, "I trust all is well?"

"Rise, daughter," Odin requests and she does so, meeting his gaze. His eye holds a cold steal, but the skin surrounding it is soft. "You are done wallowing, I trust?"

Wallowing.

So that's what it is now?

Wondrous.

Hela's face tinges slightly as she chances a glance towards those around her, and she feels her muscles twitch, but she bows her head and gives a slight nod all the same, "Yes, Father."

"Good," Frigga says and moves to rest a hand on her shoulder, "Heimdall has already sent them on, you were nearly late." She gives a warning look and Hela offers a thin smile, wishing with a burning fury to escape the grip. After a moment longer, Frigga does loosen her hold and Hela shifts across the dais to Hliðskjálf next to Thor and Loki, attempting to put as much distance between her parents disappointed stares and herself.

Loki and Thor both look up at her, the game coming to a halt. Each looks wary.

A pit of anxiety in her stomach begins to shovel again. As of recent years, she has done her best to quell her temper around her siblings. She knows that she can react brashly to things and it can cause more problems that she cares to admit, but she tries to keep their exposure to that drawn to a minimum. Most of the time she has succeeded. Not today. Given opportunity, she would have preferred the revelation about Nevel and Tisti to have been given privately.

She doesn't say anything and pointedly looks away.

They don't continue the game, opting to watch her instead.

The room is quiet for a few more minutes before the doors are opened by Einherjar and she sees the familiar figures of her extended family through their escorts. General Tyr is in the front, with his lieutenant at his side and a handful of higher ranking officers. General Tyr comes to a stop in front of Hliðskjálf and lowers to one knee, hand over heard. "My king, I have done as you requested."

"Thank you, General," Odin says softly, "You are dismissed."

General Tyr nods before rising to his feet and moving to exit the room.

Hela lifts her gaze to the royal family. They look much the same as she can last recall them, save the fact that the two young babes are now a little older than Loki. Queen Tisti, at the head of her family looks regal as ever baring Alfheim's colors, green and yellow in a flowing dress. Her long, pale blonde hair is drawn together in a tight braid down her scalp. The recent style for Light Elves has been short and braided, so she's not surprised. Beside her is her husband, and King Nevel looks ever inch the proud Light Elf he was several years ago. Their two adult sons, Hari and Kiartan are dressed similar to their father in both appearance and attitude.

Hari has more bulk than she can recall, but Kiartan looks much the same with his thin face and sharp nose.

The two twins in front, Fye and Hijn, look quite young and lost.

King Nevel takes a step forward, "Well," he says, baring his clipped accent into the room with ease, "I see that you have redecorated. Was this by choice, or result of the arson?"

Hela snaps her jaw together tightly, and forces herself to keep her expression blank when King Nevel's eyes pointedly stray to her. Members of the court follow his gaze, and Hela clenches her fists at her sides.

She sees her father's eyes narrow slightly before he leans forward on his throne, "We are not gathered here to share architectural ideas."

"Of course not," King Nevel agrees smoothly and takes a step forward, "I apologize to have thrown this on you so swiftly, but with my son's coronation arriving, we did not think we would be able to spare the time."

So she wasn't the only one to not know of this months in advance.

"Don't strain yourself," Odin says in response, "it was arriving anyway."

"Yes." King Nevel agrees, then tilts his head a little, "You are coming to my son's coronation, yes? It will be a grand celebration. Imagine being crowned in such a time of peace. I have no need to hand over a bloody sword with my title."

The jab is clear and pointed directly towards Odin's predecessor. As legend goes-she's never heard the story herself-King Bor was brutally wounded in battle and Odin found his dying body and attempted to drag him to safety. Before they could make it back to camp, King Bor choked for breath and drew his bloodstained sword and handed it to Odin, along with the responsibility of Asgard. The only one of Odin's siblings present in the battle, his younger sister Geirdriful, the commander of the Valkyries at the time, was slain with his father taking any credibility of the story from them.

Odin stares at King Nevel for a long moment and Hela watches her father warily. Frigga's hand comes to rest on his arm, "Yes, we plan on making an attendance." She affirms quietly.

Hela nearly groans.

Great.

More bonding time with Alfheim. She has nothing against their people, they're all fairly decent, but she has no idea what rock their royalty crawled out from under.

King Nevel beams before moving forward, "Well then, let's get the ceremony over with so we can send the children along and get to the gritty details."

Her father rises to his feet and takes steps down from Hliðskjálf, drawing a sword from his hip. Frigga follows the action with her own weapon and Nevel's family steps forward. Loki is too young to participate in this part of the transaction, but Thor pulls a weapon from his belt as well.

"King Nevel," Odin says, raising his voice slightly, "I thank you for your effort in maintaining the peace between our worlds. May we continue along such a path."

King Nevel says nothing, merely lifts his weapon and Odin does the same. They exchange the swords, sheathing them, and Hela turns to Kiartan, pulling her weapon from her belt. Kiartan's brown eyes hold no respect or fondness for her and she'd be lying to say it isn't a reflection of her own. They exchange the weapons with some reluctance. She sees the rest of her family preform the act and notes the drawn shoulders and tense faces.

Odin turns to her when movements have stilled, "My daughter, take Prince Kiartan and his siblings to the gardens. I'll send someone to notify you when we have further need of any of you."

Hela nods and gives a low bow of her head before turning to Kiartan. His lip curls in a slight sneer and she resists the urge to shove a dagger up his gut because of it.

Nevel waves his hands towards them, shooing them off, "Run along now."

Hela gives him a pointed look of annoyance before resting a hand on either one of her brother's shoulder's giving an internal wince as Loki stiffens beneath her. She will need to apologize later for her actions this morning. She gives Loki's shoulder a soft squeeze in reassurance before gently herding them forward.

Everything is stiff and uncomfortable as they walk through the palace and break into the heated outdoors. The suns' combined heat immediately blares into her skin and scalp reminding her abruptly that she should have dressed in lighter clothing. Kiartan guides his siblings ahead with them, but it's a fairly obvious and open secret that none of them want to be doing this.

Loki begins to drag his feet the further along they get in the courtyard, looking abruptly more uncomfortable and keeps sending pleading glances back at her that she doesn't understand. Thor perks at the fresh air, though. At some point, Loki took her hand, but Thor is content with her hand against his back.

The Queens Garden's appear quickly and though she's much opposed to having Alfheim's royalty invade this private space that really only her family occupies, she doesn't want them in the palace, either. The thick, brown and prickly roses covering the gates look intimidating from a distance, but to Hela they're a comfort. She guides them to the nearest entrance and quickly works until she finds a small open space with benches. There's three fountains in the center gently flowing water and the sound is a dull rhythm in the back of her mind. The gardens are filled with flowers from all over that her stepmother has collected over the years, there are also trees spread throughout it and the whole area filling it with life.

Hela sits on the nearest bench with shade, which is about thirty feet from the gates, and Loki and Thor promptly take seats beside her, Loki resting his head against her arm tiredly. Thor begins to kick his legs.

All of the fountains have four benches around it, one on each side of the water and Kiartan, Hari, and the twins take a seat on the bench on their right. Fye and Hijn move to go touch the water, as most young children are prone to.

"It's hot," Loki murmurs into her arm.

"I know," she assures and runs a hand through his slick black hair.

"I want to go back inside." Loki says quietly, looking up at her with wide green eyes.

Hela bites her lip with sympathy, but she's learned better than to ignore her father's word. "It'll only be for a little bit." She reassures.

Hopefully, these can last up to hours.

Thor rises to his feet after a second, apparently tired of sitting still, and grabs Loki's hand. "Let's go play with the water." He requests, "Mother said that she enchanted one to look like a dragon and I wish to find it."

Loki perks, but doesn't immediately leap to his feet. Instead, he shakes his head. "Hot." He says.

"Water is cold, brother," Thor points out with anticipation.

"I 'on't feel good." Loki murmurs into her upper arm. His black hair is sticking to his face.

Definitely the heat then. He needs to go find something colder, and like Thor said, water will help with that. She gives Loki a gentle nudge, "The snake is near the Champion's Tree, why don't you take Fye and Hijn with you?"

Loki shakes his head and Thor's shoulders slump. Hela leans towards his ear, "It's just the heat, brother," she assures, "There is wind and more shade next to the tree."

Loki gives her one last pleading look, but Thor takes a chance and grasps his hand, dragging him forward, towards the twins, "Come my noble allies of Alfheim and I will show you the tree, this tree was what they used to…" Thor starts to explain and is pulling a stumbling Loki with him in the direction of it, enthusiastically. After a hesitation, the twins follow, likely led on by Thor's enthusiasm. The tree really isn't anything special, it was just where Asgard used to hand out knightings. When Frigga was made queen, she turned it into a garden and the knightings started to happen in the throne room. Now the tree is just a part of history.

She begins to play with her skirt, wishing desperately for a cloud to block out the suns' double rays of heat.

"So, when is it?" Kiartan says suddenly, breaking her from her trance of staring at the grass with far to much interest than should be reasonable. Hela lifts her gaze up and quirks an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

Kiartan looks at her with a smug stance, "Your coronation, of course, foolish girl."

Hela's fists tighten. Honestly, her father hasn't brought up the idea since they served in battle together. She is not even the proper age for crowning, yet, tehcinally, that time comes when she's around Midgard's twenty-five. Kiartan is older than her and will reach the week, she believes, before his crowning. Hela isn't...she doesn't know. She hasn't asked. Hasn't felt the need to. It will come, in time, she's been focusing on other things rather than that. But it is a swirling bottomless pit of doubt that's been building in the back of her head for a while.

When will Odin trust her with the crown?

Kiartan takes her silence as an answer and barks a laugh, "By the Norns, you don't know do you?"

She gives them a heated stare.

No, she doesn't. Must they revel in this?

"Odin have such little faith in you?" Harry asks. "Kiartan was set to be crowned nearly five years past but our father decided it would be better to follow after tradition. You, however...will you ever be ready? Or do you keep running from your responsibilities?"

Hela's on her feet, though she can't recall standing. "You are well aware that I didn't start the fire."

The smoke is choking her.

Alone.

Help.

Kiartan and Hari are on their feet as well, both looking like their enjoying this immensely. Hari gives a lazy grin, though his eyes look tight, "Yes, well, who did they find with the means to have created it?"

Hela scowls darkly. When they were all much younger and Hela a trusting idiot, Hari and Kiartan probed her into helping them steal one of the Master Sorcerers bottled spells. When they succeed, they went to the empty throne room to celebrate their revels, but Kiartan broke the bottle. The fire quickly grew out of their control and the room began to collapse. Hela was crushed under a column and begged for their assistance, but they left her and fled, not wanting to be punished for the crime.

Hela was found later, but learned that well she was healing, General Tyr had taken Kiartan and Hari in her place to serve the Asgardian army. She was furious, and she took the downful of their deed. Since then, they have taken thrill in mocking her of the incident that left her shaking for weeks.

Her hand goes to the sword strapped to her hip, but she stops, forcing herself to stop and think. She's not going to get anywhere by stabbing them, much as she would like to, and her brothers are within a spotting view of this. She's not going to lose control in front of them for a second time today.

Kiartan watches her movements and smirks slightly. "I see you have grown soft in these last years, my dear Skeleton-Girl."

Hela bristles and her spine draws up tighter and she feels her eyes narrow, her mind flashing back to when they were younger and before her father had burned all the bodies, Alfheim had come for assistance with a brutal battle and she seen the ghosts wandering the halls and they had insisted she had gone mad. "They we're not-" Hela starts, only to be cut off, again.

"I do recall the last time we were in your presence you swore you were going to cut out eyes out." Hari notes.

She still will if they keep nagging her.

"Your father doesn't think you fit for a throne, does he?" Kiartan asks, softly. "You're too busy seeing hallucinations of dead-men."

Her hand goes back to the sword. Hela stalks the few inches between them easily and glowers at him darkly, "My father is not stupid enough to put an arrogant child on the throne."

Kiartan hisses, "You think yourself so noble running around as if you actually have importance, don't you know that your father had your siblings to replace you? You are a violent, uncontrollable weapon Hela, and I will not be bullied by-"

Anger surges through her and she grabs the front of his shirt, dragging him forward before her fist curls and she slams it into Kiartan's face. His nose gives a sickening crack as it snaps and the prince tumbles backwards holding the appendage with both hands almost crashing into Hari. Kiartan pulls his hands back as his nose starts to seep liquid and looks up at her angrily.

Hari moves forward, "Don't touch my brother!" He growls, "You little wretch-"

Hela draws the sword and levels it to his throat, halting him, "Shh," she whispers and presses a finger to her lips, "Choose your words carefully or the next scream you hear may be your own."

Hari swallows, before opening his mouth to start to say something, but all of them whip their heads towards the Champion's Tree as Fye lets out a loud scream and Thor releases a panicked yell of "help!" .

Alarm grasps over her anger, and Hela breaks into a run in the direction of her siblings, sheathing the sword. As she gets closer, she spots the children kneeing over something and speaking in frantic tones.

Loki is on the ground, pale and unconscious. Thor holding his head looking helpless. Hari and Kiartan are a moment behind her and pull their siblings back for comfort as Hela drops to her knees beside Thor and Loki. "What happened?"

She presses a hand next to Loki's nose, feeling for breath and is reassured when she finds it.

"H-he just collapsed, his eyes rolled all back and then was on the ground. He won't wake up." Fye explains is a quiet, small voice almost as if she's afraid of angering Hela.

"Did he hit his head?" Hela demands, looking to Thor for an answer. The younger rapidly shakes his head.

"I caught him before he did."

"Good," Hela says and presses her fingers against Loki's neck pushing past the collar and her eyebrows rise in anxiety at just how warm Loki's skin feels. He's colder by nature and usually when he feels like another human being he has a fever, right now he feels like a piece of metal that's been lying in the bellows for to long.

Loki's pulse is sluggish and Hela mentally kicks herself. He told her he didn't feel good and she ignored it. Hela draws her hand back, frantically and sees Loki's chest rise and fall erratically. Loki has always had trouble in the summers, even the more mild ones, he's a Jotunn!

The heat is going to kill him.

Panic wraps around Hela's heart even harder and she prepares to grasp Loki into her arms and take him to the healing rooms. He sways in her grip and Hela turns to Thor, "Come, we need to hurry."

"Is he going to be okay?" Fye questions behind her, Hela glances back at her, then at Kiartian's gushing nose for a second.

"I don't know," she admits. "Thor, come, hurry."

Thor scrambles to his feet at her side, and both of them take off towards the palace.

000o000

Eir drops everything as Hela shoves her way into the healing room screeching at the top of her lungs for help. They whisk Loki from her quickly and glowing spells already working, shouting going on between them. Hela can only watch from a distance and sits on a chair guilt sweeping through her because she should have known. She knows Loki is Jotunn and she is aware of their weakness to heat. She should have been able to stop it. But she didn't.

Frigga arrives nearly an hour later, and Thor is at her side her eyes wide and takes a seat next to her clenching and unclenching her fists. Thor sits at their feet, startling quiet, staring off towards where Loki is his face drawn to concern.

When they finally declare Loki on the mend some few hours later, Hela and Thor refuse to leave his side. Frigga comes and goes because there is still a peace treaty going on and despite as much as she wants to be down here, she can't. Hela couldn't care less. Her brother is in pain, and the other is panicking because of it.

Thor, after a day, climbs on the bed beside Loki and stays put looking at him. The hours quickly blur into days and Hela can only vaguely remember Frigga telling them that Nevel and Tisti have left and the treaty is once again in place, also mentioning that she broke Kiartan's nose fine. Something about it never healing right despite the spells.

The healer's assure her Loki is getting better and after day four, Loki does wake up. He blinks slowly several times before letting out a moan and clutching at his head in pain moaning for Frigga. Hela rises to her feet and leaves the room sweeping past Frigga in her guilt and moves down the halls in no particular direction.

Loki will be fine.

He's well on his way to healing, but Hela hates knowing that she did notice something was off and she didn't bother to branch off on it. She just stood there to the side silently hoping the issue would go away on it's own. Hela is no healer, she is not skilled in healing magic as her mother is and couldn't do anything when she saw Loki unconscious but panic.

Loki almost died.

Hela shakes her thoughts and is surprised to see herself standing on one of the palace's many balconies, well less so to be here, but to see her father here as well. His back is to her, but Hela moves forward so they are standing side by side. He dropped by after Alfheim's delegations left to check on Loki's condition left, but she hasn't seen much of him since.

"Loki is awake, then?" Odin asks and turns to look at her. Hela nods. "Good, Eir said that he would make a full recovery. You also haven't left his side, Eir said."

"I didn't." Hela says and sighs heavily, "He told me he was not feeling well and I did nothing of it, Father." She admits, quietly, "I just assumed he didn't want to go with Thor."

"You are not at fault," Her father assures and turns his one-eyed gaze to stare at her firmly, "You will know better next time."

"I don't want there to be a next time." Hela breathes, "What if I can't, what if I fail again and this time it does result in one of their deaths?"

Odin rests a hand on her shoulder, "Hela, your brother's are young. They will learn to look after each other, given time. They already do. You will not fail." Odin's lips quirk slightly and he turns to stare out at the city the dark night sky sparkling with the stars. "I have heard rumors that Kiartian's mysterious nose break came from your hand."

"It may have." Hela answers defensively and folds her arms across her chest. She had been looking for Odin, anyway, meaning to ask him on it. Odin gives a soft hum and Hela turns so they are eye-to-eye. She gnaws on her inner lip. "Father," she says softly, "when do you intend to crown me?"

Odin's eyebrow raise in surprise (a rare feet) and he turns to look at her, "What brings this line of questioning? It has always been your birthright, Hela."

"I know," Hela says, quickly, "It's just...Kiartian said that you do not intend to crown me."

"I do," Odin says, "when you are ready, you are not even of age."

Hela nods and breathes a sigh of relief as quietly as possible. She didn't doubt it, it's just...better to hear it from her father's lips again. To reassure her. Hela purses her lips together and clasps her hands together staring down at them, again, watching her pale skin for a moment. "I have another question;" Hela says, finally, breaking the silence in between them. Odin hums in answer, giving her permission to continue. Hela hesitates for another moment, before forcing the words from her lips: "How long to you intend to keep Loki's heritage from him? He nearly died today, because he didn't know. We should tell him." Hela says and Odin shakes his head, rather violently.

"No, we will not."

Hela's eyebrows rise slightly in her distress. "Father, he needs to know. I can't watch him nearly die or die because he doesn't know what he should avoid."

"He is to young."

"There will never be a better time to tell him then now."

"He will not feel the difference if he thinks himself one of us. I do not want him to feel different."

That is an obnoxious lie.

Hela shakes her head, violently, "He will not understand-"

"Then he will just have to wonder!"

" Father!" Hela says, her voice laced with disbelief. "Loki does not deserve that. You would not have kept something like this from me. "

Odin turns his eye to her and nods slightly, giving a weary sigh, "Yes, I would not have. But I do not intend to tell Loki until he is old enough to process it, when he has come of age. Your mother and I have not managed to persuade the public that the Jotunn's are not a cursed race. Only then when he will not believe himself a monster, will he be ready."

Suddenly, the gaps that Hela didn't completely understand before give a horrific click in her head and she takes a step back from her father in shock. "You intend to use him as a bridge between Jotunheim and Asgard. You intend," Her voice is strained, "for me to take the throne of Asgard and Loki to have him take Kingship over the Jotunn's." She says, her voice barely above a whisper. What of Thor, then? Does her father intend to have him be the awkward bridge-between? Or does he plan on conquering another realm for Thor to take control of?

Her father does not deny it but instead grasps her hand, "My daughter, there is a purpose to everything I do. I need you to trust me on this, do not tell your brother. You will understand in time that it is a mercy. Swear to me that you will not tell him until it is time."

A mercy?

How is this a mercy?

She doesn't understand, and she doubts she ever will.

Odin's look is not soft; he is not looking for anything but her compliance. Hela's jaw clenches slightly and her other fist curls tightly together pressing into her palms, but she gives a very, very soft nod. Her voice is barely above a whisper, "I swear."

000o000

"See this? This is you, me, Thor, Mother, and Father. I drew it for you." Hela turns her gaze to her younger brother who's offering the drawing out to her like a peace offering between the two of them. The figures are better drawn than she would expect from someone his age, but still slightly stick-figure. Odin and Frigga are holding hands and Hela is holding Frigga and Thor's; Thor is holding Loki's. Asgard's palace is behind them shining brightly. Hela takes the drawing and puts it down on her desk stretching her lips into a thin smile.

"It's lovely. Thank you."

Loki's wild green eyes light up and he gives a wide smile, one that sends a sparkle into his eyes and crunches up his nose slightly, "You really think so?" He asks, his voice is eager and Hela gives a swift nod staring at him for a moment. Loki still looks a little sickly, but his health is restored enough that Eir felt it alright to release him "into the wild" as she put it. "Thor thought it looked nice, too." He says his eyes happy. Hela turns herself away from the hilt she's crafting to her brother as he lifts up his palm rocking back and forth in his excitement.

"Look what I learned!" Loki insists and lifts his hand to reveal green fire pressed into his palms. Hela's eyebrows shoot upwards with surprise and she stares at him with shock and awe. She never managed to hold fire in her palm. Hela attempted to learn sorcery but was absolutely awful at it. She had no skill and here Loki is, raw and untrained yet his control is stunning. "My skin felt like fire in the healing-wing and one morning I woke up able to do it."

"Impressive, little brother." She assures.

"Mother thought so too!" Loki says and Hela ruffles his hair affectionately.

Loki nods enthusiastically before giving a happy smile and running out of her room without explanation, likely to find Thor. Hela shakes her head softly in fond exasperation before she turns her gaze back to the drawing on her desk. In the drawing, their happy family is smiling with far to large smiles and eyes than realistic but it is them all the same.

Something just looks off about it though and Hela grasps it her fingers drawing it closer to her face. Her eyes widen as she realizes something; She's doubts it was intentional and it's barely noticeable, but yet it's there. At first it had looked white, like the rest of the paper behind them, but now that she's focused on it she realizes something:

Loki had drawn all of their skin to be a light shade of blue.